


Artificial Sugar (The Taste of You)

by sakurahaiku



Category: ONEWE (Band)
Genre: But Nothing Explicit By Any Means, Gratuitous Mentions of Sugar Cookies, M/M, Multi, No Beta, Sexual Themes, The Author Regrets Nothing, Yearning, eventual polyamory, rated for themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/pseuds/sakurahaiku
Summary: “That’s rough, buddy,” Keonhee smiles softly at him, “Your best friend and roommate. Of course it turned out this way. I’m sorry, Hyungu,”“Don’t apologize yet; it gets worse,” Hyungu’s grip on his mug grows even tighter, “It’s also Yonghoon,”(All he had wanted was a safe, magical love. Instead he fell in love with them both, and fate had laughed at him.)
Relationships: Jin Yonghoon/Ju Harin, Jin Yonghoon/Ju Harin/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Jin Yonghoon/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Ju Harin/Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun, Kang Hyungu | Kanghyun/Lee Keonhee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 45





	Artificial Sugar (The Taste of You)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to a fic that has been literal months in the making. 
> 
> I just really like the three of them a whole lot.

Like many people, Hyungu had always had grand thoughts about love. He knew what it was supposed to be like, how it should feel. He imagined love encapsulating him, orbiting around him like a moon. He knew it should give him butterflies in his stomach, should make him feel like everything around him was magic. That he was magic. This is what life had led him to believe; every book he had ever read, every story he had ever been told, had brought him to yearning for that feeling.

Of course, the subversion hits Hyungu like a thousand asteroids crashing into him, creating holes in him.

He had imagined love as something simple and natural, that he would know it immediately. That he would look into someone’s eyes and imagine a forever. There was a part of him that always knew it was never going to be that simple, but he had clung to that dream. He gripped tightly to the idea that love would be kind, and he would find his one perfect match.

Love, he finds, is never that simple. It’s a hard lesson for him to learn as he’s watching Harin cook. His best friend, roommate, looks over his shoulder and asks Hyungu how spicy he wants his portion of chicken to be. Hyungu calls out his answer and he feels fate squeeze his heart. He’s sitting there, on the threadbare couch they had thrifted from the side of the road, guitar next to him, and he’s knockout by the overwhelming feeling of adoration.

Falling in love with your best friend is a double-edged sword, Hyungu finds. Had life presented itself differently than it could be an amazing opportunity. He had known Harin since they were awkward, gangly-limbed teenagers. They knew everything about each other. Every inch of the skeletons in their closets had been explored and understood. Falling in love with Harin could be ideal. They knew each other’s quirks, their likes and dislikes; Hyungu felt comfortable around Harin in a way that he didn’t around others. There would be no need to learn, to study a manual of a person to get the relationship right. It’s a feeling Hyungu could be contented with, in a perfect, hypothetical scenario.

Then Yonghoon calls his chicken order from the chair across from Hyungu, the one Harin had dragged home slowly from the second-hand store ten blocks away, and his heart clenches once more. This was beyond anticipation, Hyungu had not prepared for this. Falling in love with your best friend was common, almost an overdone trope. Typical and safe, the perfect chemistry equation for a Hollywood movie ending.

Falling in love with your best friend’s boyfriend? It felt underhanded to Hyungu. It felt like a betrayal of trust. He cursed destiny in that moment, sitting on that couch. Cursed Harin’s broad shoulders, cursed the lit in Yonghoon’s voice. All he had wanted was a safe, magical love.

Instead he fell in love with them both, and fate had laughed at him.

* * *

Hyungu finds that he’s pretty good at compartmentalizing his feelings. He puts his trauma and his depression into a box and stores it away until he has the mental capacity – and the time – to process and deal with it. This has been a standard that he’s held himself to for his entire life. All of those negative emotions pushed off to the side, and yet it’s love that he can’t force away to face another day.

It doesn’t help that Harin is always in his space. It’s not like he can help it; their tiny apartment technically only has one bedroom and Hyungu sleeps into the dark, windowless room legally classified as a den. They share one bathroom, and many mornings have been spent with them shoulder to shoulder in the bathroom, hurryingly brushing their teeth and washing their faces. None of this had ever mattered until Hyungu had his life-changing and worrying self-realization of adoration. None of this would have been a problem if Hyungu had just been able to wish the feelings away,

It’s not like it’s any easier avoiding his feelings for Yonghoon. Somehow the older man’s living situation is even more cramped than theirs, so most nights Hyungu finds himself sitting across from him eating dinner at their small kitchen table. Yonghoon makes persistent eye contact, asks Hyungu about his day, and is just so annoyingly kind and understanding. It used to feel nice, having his best friend’s boyfriend accept him so warmly, but now it’s beginning to feel like a burden.

It would be almost bearable if these intrusive thoughts only occurred when he was in their presence, but Hyungu finds, to his great dismay, that life doesn’t work so kindly. He’s plagued by daydreams, he finds himself looking for their faces in random crowds. He goes grocery shopping and picks up a snack that Yonghoon adores and it takes him until he’s paying to remember that it’s something that he hates. He apologizes to the cashier as it’s removed from the order, and Hyungu wants to bash his head against the wall. Even sending funny pictures he finds to Harin as he scrolls through his social media has become a chore; suddenly he’s gripped with the anxiety that he’ll send the wrong thing and then his best friend would know.

And would it be a bad thing if Harin knew? Would it be awful if Yonghoon found out?

Hyungu finds that the answer to both of those questions is a loudly screamed ‘yes’, and he would shout it from every rooftop if he had the lung capacity. Falling in love should be a dream that he never wants to wake up from. Instead, he’s in a nightmare that haunts him at every turn. It’s like running down an unending corridor, being chased by his feelings. If they should catch up, then he risks losing his camaraderie with Yonghoon. He risks Harin finding out that their friendship is a lie. At the end of the day he loves them both, and losing them is too great a cost.

* * *

He and Harin could have been something, maybe once. They both have the crashing realization of their sexuality at around the same time, in the awkward junction between high school and university. In sweltering July heat they had confided in each other about how they would never have girlfriends, would never have the picture-perfect relationships that their parents had always wanted for them. Instead they would be considered ‘fringe’, but at least they would be in abnormal together.

The words ‘strange’ and ‘unnatural’ hung over them both. Neither of them had the experience, back then, to comprehend that there was nothing irregular about either of them. That they were just two of many. In the heat of that summer, however, they only knew about the other, only had each other.

It’s in August, before university starts up and they both have to face the uncertainties of adulthood, that Harin brings it up. It’s a favour, a tall order. He asks Hyungu it in hushed tones, as the sun sets and moths are flying. In another life, for another pair, this would be the Hollywood ending. Years later, Hyungu can still picture it. Only know he understands that the twisting of his stomach wasn’t just nerves, but pure, raw love.

All Harin wants is a kiss. He had never imagined starting university without having his first, and Hyungu is too shy to admit the same. Yet he nods, thinking that he might as well get it over with. Harin had cleared his throat, sat up straighter. Unlike Hyungu, who walked through life with an air of uncertainty and anxiety, Harin made his decisions confidently. He moved with purpose, and it was no different when he leaned forward to kiss Hyungu; bold, daring, too audacious for someone kissing their best friend just to get it over with.

Hyungu remembers Harin tasting like the artificial sweetness of grocery store sugar cookies. The kind with sickly sweet icing that are impossibly soft, colourful sprinkles adorning them. They were a guilty pleasure of Harin’s that Hyungu could never quite understand. The other would buy them when he was sad, when he needed to celebrate, and even as a study snack. Hyungu remembers thinking that Harin must have eaten some that day, just before coming out to meet him. Looking back, he wonders if it was some form of sugary courage for the favour he was going to ask.

So, they kiss. It’s sweet, once Harin’s boldness move past them. It’s innocent in all it’s wonderful ways. It’s easy to know what to do when he’s with Harin, Hyungu thinks, even if neither of them know exactly what they’re doing. If Hyungu wanted to be romantic about it, wanted to read too much into the situation, he would say that maybe Harin held on for a little longer than necessary. Maybe Hyungu did too. Maybe it was hormonal, teenaged attraction, maybe it was just the knowing that they both completely understood one another; there were no barriers and no secrets.

They don’t talk about it, and the anxiety of it drives Hyungu to the brink. He’s not in love, he didn’t think he was, not yet, but he had anticipated something. The months following the kiss, he wondered if it was going to happen again. Maybe they would become casual kissers. Maybe they would just date and get that awkward stage of early adulthood dating over with together. It never happens, however, and Hyungu pushes it to the back of his mind, compartmentalizes it to deal with later. And he carries on like normal with Harin. They match smiles, move in together, and it’s no surprise that Hyungu is the first person Harin introduces Yonghoon to. They’re best friends after all, despite everything, and they have no reason to doubt one another. No reason to fear being around each other. They tell each other everything as the moon rises into the sky. There are no secrets too large to share, not a fact left unknown.

Except now there’s a huge weight on Hyungu’s chest. There’s now a secret, the biggest one he could ever imagine, and he can’t tell Harin. He feels like a fraud.

* * *

Meeting Yonghoon for the first time is painless. It was before Hyungu had his earth-shattering revelation about Harin, before he had any reason to be wary of the older man. His best friend had broached the topic cautiously, as if fearing that Hyungu would run. It would be a baseless fear; Yonghoon was fun and bright and polite, and Hyungu liked him instantly.

And what wasn’t to like? Yonghoon was effervescent, smiled as if he was the sun. He took to Hyungu immediately, causing Harin to grin widely. So what if he was more affectionate than Hyungu would like? He was Harin’s boyfriend, it was ideal that they were getting along. So what if Yonghoon ruffled Hyungu’s hair while walking into the door to give Harin a kiss? So what if he knew Hyungu’s coffee order from memory and knew all of his favourite snacks to eat while studying? So what if he always remembered to include Hyungu when they were all together, engaging him in conversation so he wouldn’t feel like the third-wheel while the other two were cuddling? Yonghoon was Harin’s boyfriend, and he was perfect for Harin and the fact that he adored Hyungu was just icing on the cake.

It was easy to see how someone could fall in love with him.

Hyungu can’t decide if falling in love with Yonghoon was better or worse than falling in love with Harin. With Yonghoon it feels like there’s some sort of excuse that could be made. That he wasn’t used to someone so beautiful, so sparkling, so _him_ and therefore the pull was an inevitability. Love, of course, is out of one’s control, so it was here too.

Therefore – and Hyungu reaches this crashing inevitability terrified and heartsick – that that means Harin is also an inevitability. That fate decided to grab hold of Hyungu and force feed him heartache. That he will not simply have a crush or mere attraction, he has to suffer from _yearning_ and always wanting to reach out and be held. He suffers, not just because destiny has determined that he will fall in love with the two most inconvenient people in his life, but that he can never compare. 

Both Yonghoon and Harin clearly have a type. Tall and bright and beautiful. If Hyungu were to break down the components that built all three of them, he knew that his would come up subpar, inadequate. He was lanky and slim, just brushing average height, definitely not the perfect height to nestle his face into the crook of a tall man’s neck, no matter what his brain thinks. He has a quiet, gloomier disposition, more of the moon then the sun. And he definitely wasn’t beautiful, not in comparison.

So, he watched them be the perfect couple. They could stand next to each other and look modelesque and attractive. Their ups and downs were mirrored, and they’re so attracted to one another that it makes Hyungu want to run into his windowless and room and hide. Their personalities just mesh together seamlessly and it’s easy to see how they would fall in love.

And Hyungu is just the friend on the sidelines: somber, plain, and short.

* * *

Something that Hyungu had failed to adjust for when he stumbles into unrequited adoration is the thoughts, the yearning, the wanting. What were easy interactions for years and years becomes a tidal wave of anxiety and nervous energy, until Harin has to push and hold his leg down from shaking uncontrollably during a movie night. Hyungu wants to be loved so bad and the feeling eats him from the inside out.

It’s not like he can just run away either. Harin is his every waking moment, the person always in his space because there’s just not enough room in their cramped apartment. Hyungu tries not to overthink every accidental brush, because they’re _accidents_ and not purposeful motions of intent. But his brain wanders and sabotages him. It would be far too easy to overstep and ruin the carefully cultivated friendship that Hyungu doesn’t know how he’s kept alive considering how different they are.

Yonghoon is even worse. Affectionate by nature, the older sees no issue hugging Hyungu at every given opportunity, ruffling his hair and complimenting him. And Hyungu wants to fall into the warmth that Yonghoon provides; wants it to envelop him until he melts and turns to mush from the heat. But that’s a dangerous action, it has dangerous implications, and Hyungu just can’t take the risk.

It’s the worst in the early hours of the morning when he wakes up _wanting_. When he wakes up knowing that they’re the next room over, tangled up in each other, and Hyungu is so close and he just wants to be consumed. His sleep-heavy brain muses on worthless things; how snug it would be, nose buried into Harin’s chest, Yonghoon pressed against his back. Their arms over him, grazing each other, but holding him.

He tries to fall back asleep, touch-starved and lonely.

* * *

There’s always an effort to include him, and Hyungu is touched when he’s not annoyed by it. He’s introverted by design, wants to stay in more often than not, but it’s hard to say ‘no’ when the two most beautiful men in the world are looking at him with pleading doe eyes. So, he relents, more often than he actually wants to, and lets them dress him up like a doll for whatever outing they have planned. Allows them to tell him how gorgeous he looks, no matter what plain shirt they’ve pulled out of his closet. He pretends that he’s not upset that he knows that the compliments are empty, that they will never look at him with hungry eyes.

It’s a bar this time, popular with their age group, a sprawling dance floor at the back. They arrive early enough to snag a table, and Hyungu sips his beer, trying not to stare at Yonghoon practically sitting on Harin’s lap. They drink and the couple gets more affectionate, and Hyungu is just drinking to drown the sadness, the anxiety, and the overwhelming guilt that comes hand in hand with simple wanting. He sways timidly to the music, as his companions slowly forget about his presence. He’s not sure why they brought him out tonight, if they’re so focused on disregarding that he’s even there.

Yonghoon eventually pulls Harin up to dance and they stumble, fingers intertwined, to the floor. Hyungu can see them from his spot at the table. He’s nursing another beer, his third or fourth, and it’s doing nothing to brighten his continually darkening mood. In the way they’re standing it’s easier to see that Harin is shorter than Yonghoon, a nose brushing an ear. They’re so tight together, Hyungu imagines it must be too warm, must be getting harder to breathe. The dance floor looks enticing to his alcohol raddled mind, though equally terrifying and claustrophobic. It would be so easy to just run up there and lose himself in the crowd. Let himself be loose and free for once, but it’s a dangerous action, and he can’t take the risk.

“You’re way too hot to be alone,” a voice, yelling slightly over the booming bass, pulls Hyungu from his thoughts. He’s met with a handsome man with smiling eyes. He doesn’t ask for permission and sits down across from Hyungu. He blinks and holds his breath.

“What’s your name?” the man grins, and it all goes downhill from there.

There are more drinks, stronger drinks, and surprisingly easy conversation; Hyungu doesn’t know whether to blame it on the alcohol penetrating his system or on a craving for undivided attention he didn’t know that he had. The man moves, Hyungu has already forgotten his name, and situates himself on the bench next to Hyungu. Their thighs press together, the heat between them not uncomfortable, and he brushes the hair off of Hyungu’s face.

The thought of ‘I’m going to go home with this man’ crosses Hyungu’s mind. It’s not an unwelcome thought; he’s an adult and he wants so badly to be touched and cherished, and there’s no shame in wanting that. It’s not ideal, or something he would normally do, but he feels so strung-out and desperate that he leans into the affection, hopes that he’s coming off flirty rather than awkward.

Harin and Yonghoon have already disappeared into the mass of people when Hyungu eventually allows himself, drunk on booze and attention, to be dragged to the dance floor. His partner is taller than him, and Hyungu is able to nose the side of his neck, confidently drags his hands up to his chest. The stranger moves him easily, and it shocks him how willingly he’s permitting this to happen. They sway through the crowd until they reach the back of the floor, and Hyungu is pressed against the wall.

Hungry is what he feels. Hungry for attention, for kisses, for any sort of indication that he’s desirable, and that is what he gets. The stranger’s tongue is heavy in his mouth, hands gripping tightly into his ass. Hyungu falls into it, surges forward with some sort of conviction he honestly didn’t know existed within him, eyes closing, mind wandering. He feels _sexy_ , in a drunken sort of way, but he’s not complaining. He’s wanted something like this for too long, he deserves feeling like this. The fact that it’s neither of the two men he wants is secondary; this is filling the hole in his stomach, in his heart, at least momentarily, and no one can take that from him.

And then it’s gone.

He opens his eyes to find his partner glaring at Harin, feels himself being pulled away by Yonghoon. Bewildered, he hears Harin tell the stranger that “he’s drunk, this isn’t like him,” let’s Yonghoon get him water, grab their coats from the check. Then he’s outside, and the rage boils up, and he lets himself explode.

“What the fuck?” he directs at Harin, when they’re finally away from the crowds, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“You’re drunk, Hyungu,” Harin stares through him, “I wasn’t going to let some guy take advantage— “

“He wasn’t taking advantage of me! Did it ever occur to you that maybe I wanted that?”

“Hyungu,”

“I wanted him!”

“What was his name even, Hyungu?” Harin sighs, Yonghoon grabs at his arm.

“Does it matter?” Hyungu retorts, “No, it doesn’t, because I wanted to be there— “

“Are you even hearing yourself?” Harin towers over him, “Do you even hear what you’re saying --?”

“What Harin is trying to say,” Yonghoon interrupts, a pointed look to his boyfriend, “Is that we were concerned because this isn’t like you,”

“Isn’t like me?” Hyungu repeats, quietly, disdainfully, “And what were you expecting me to do all night?”

“What?”

“What were you expecting me to do? Just sit and watch the two of you make out and the dance floor?”

“Hyungu,”

“Were you expecting me to just sit and be invisible and not have fun?”

“Of course not,” Yonghoon sounds small, “Of course we wanted you to have fun,”

“You guys barely talked to me all night and left me alone, does that sound like fun to you?”

“Hyungu, enough,” it’s Harin who interjects, “We just don’t want to see you get hurt,”

“You think it doesn’t hurt to be dragged out and then ignored?” Hyungu knows he sounds exasperated, but he’s feeling petulant, “You were just going to leave me there to look pathetic,”

“You’re not pathetic,” the plead for the situation to deescalate bleeds through Yonghoon’s words, “Of course you’re not pathetic. Of course you’re not. You’re incredibly precious,”

“Too precious to let loose for _once_?” he spits out, Harin grabs his shoulder, “You don’t own me,” And Hyungu breaks free from Harin’s hold, and he can hear Yonghoon start to sob, but he walks away. He hails a taxi and he gets in alone, gives the driver his address, and goes home.

It’s his own bed that greets him. He had expected, had wanted, it to be the bed of a handsome stranger, and the reality feels like a poor substitution. He’s allowed to have one night stands and drunken hook-ups, and the thought that his friends believe they can control whether or not he does makes him shake in anger. He tears off his clothes, so carefully chosen by Yonghoon hours before, and gets under his sheets in just his underwear.

He’s still awake and in a drunken rage when, minutes later, he hears the front door open. It’s a heavy shuffling of feet and a knock on his door, and Harin asking, begging, for him to come out and talk. Hyungu squeezes his eyes shut, feels burning tears, and ignores the call. Yonghoon says something inaudible, and Harin lumbers away.

Precious. Yonghoon had called him precious. He had implied that Hyungu was precious to him, and to Harin as well. It was a cruel twist of fate that Hyungu received something that he had wanted so badly and have it be so perversely twisted. He wants to be precious to them, he wants to be kept by them, but they don’t want to keep him in the same way. They want to lock him inside a cage, but they don’t want to love him. Not like he loves them.

He falls asleep fitfully, drunken tears on his cheeks, an ache at the base of his stomach, a hunger for affection left unsated.

* * *

Miraculously, though not without a great amount of effort, Hyungu manages to not talk to Harin and Yonghoon for three days. There were attempts but Hyungu decided to stand firm on his stance. He gets proficient at giving the silent treatment, wastes money on take-out instead of eating the food Harin makes. It’s not something that makes him happy to do, per se, but it’s the principle of the matter.

He didn’t even really want to go home with that guy, not when he really thinks about it, now that he’s sobered up. He was a distraction, he gave him attention, he told Hyungu he was _hot_. The whole idea of it seems almost bewildering, looking back. The stranger had been just attractive enough, charming enough, to make Hyungu believe for a moment that he wasn’t in closed quarters with the two most gorgeous men in existence. It would have been nice though, he thinks, to let himself go for a night.

It’s perfectly within his rights to have a drunken hook up with a beautiful stranger he met at a bar, and he just doesn’t understand why Harin and Yonghoon intervened. Just because it was out of character for him? Was it so unfathomable to think that he could have _needs_ too? Hyungu can feel himself grow hot at the thought of it.

It’s not something he tries to dwell on, it’s just another aspect of him that he compartmentalizes, stashes away to deal with. He has needs, he craves attention. Maybe it’s not all the time, he values his space, but some days all he wants is to be swept up and held and kissed until he’s breathless. He should be allowed to have that. He shouldn’t have to lie awake at night trying to calm down the yearning just because it’s ‘out of character’ for him.

He’s never been one to want to lean towards the random. Romance has rules, even unrequited crushes, and one of them is the formality of it all. You don’t go home with someone you just met. You wine and dine until trust is formed. And, sure, Hyungu doesn’t think he should wait until marriage, but he wants a lasting relationship, not one night that leaves him so close to satisfaction but never quite achieving it.

The rules, however, have no power over the hunger that he has. It’s a hunger so deep that it swirls in his chest like a black hole; the amount of affection he desires is so mammoth that it feels like it will take an army to counter it. It’s a craving he can’t push away, can’t placate some other way. He needs someone to hold him, to kiss him, to keep him forever.

It doesn’t help that his usual sources of affection are currently enemies one and two.

He spends the third day in Giwook’s (equally cramped) studio apartment. Dongmyeong is over, and they welcome him in with open arms. They don’t ask where Harin is, or Yonghoon, and Hyungu is grateful for it. Minutes pass and he’s barely said hello when Dongmyeong tells him he looks tense. Hyungu is practically shoved belly first onto Giwook’s bed, and the younger presses his fist into a knot in his back that’s been bothering him for days.

They exist in silence, Dongmyeong pressing down into Hyungu’s back, Giwook sitting next to them on the floor, playing some new tracks that he’s come up with. Hyungu tries to comment, but the younger man on his back seems to always find a painful spot just as he’s about to speak. When Dongmyeong releases his hands, he can feel the lactic acid flow out of him. He feels lighter, at least physically.

Dongmyeong is still straddling his back when he simply states, “Are you going to tell us what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” and Giwook scoffs at that, and Hyungu can practically hear Dongmyeong roll his eyes.

“Bullshit. You’re here for a reason,” he can feel Dongmyeong lean forward towards his ear, “Spill,” And all Hyungu can do is sigh, explain that it’s silly and not important, that they don’t want to hear it. Both younger boys urge him on until he relents.

“It’s not strange for me to have a one night stand, is it?” He can hear the whiplash coming from Dongmyeong and Giwook as they look towards him, at each other, back at him.

“Uhm,” Giwook doesn’t seem to know how to phrase the question, stuttering over himself, “Did you hook up with someone?”

“Almost,” he buries his head in the pillow.

“Why almost? What stopped you?” Dongmyeong is rubbing lightly at his back.

“Harin,” Hyungu groans, “And Yonghoon,”

“What?”

“Why?” the two questions are almost unanimous.

“They said it wasn’t like me. That I was drunk and I was going to regret it,”

“Oh, Hyungu,” Dongmyeong is rubbing circles into his back, comforting, “They’re just looking out for you,”

“It’s definitely not something I would expect you to do, but it’s not strange,” Giwook’s words are careful. Hyungu sighs, and turns underneath Dongmyeong until the younger is sitting on his stomach.

“They dressed me up, brought me to a bar, left me alone, and expected me to just sit and wait for them to stop having fun,” he’s exasperated, tired “This guy came over, and he was cute, and he wanted to kiss me, and I decided I would go home with him. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you wanting that,” Dongmyeong exhales, “But hooking up with a random stranger while drunk is dangerous,”

“Aren’t I allowed to live dangerously every once in a while?”

“I wish you wouldn’t,” Giwook’s taken hold of his hand.

“Why are they allowed to have fun and I can’t,” Hyungu feels like he’s close to tears. Dongmyeong must be able to tell, the younger swipes underneath his eyes.

“Of course, you’re allowed to have fun. They probably just wanted a night out with you, that’s all,”

“They ignored me nearly all night,”

“And that was wrong of them,” Dongmyeong swipes under his eyes again, a third, a fourth time.

“You should talk to them about it. I’m sure they feel horrible,” Giwook squeezes his hand.

“They don’t get to decide what I do with my life. They shouldn’t stop me from hooking up with someone if I want to,”

“Then tell them that,” Dongmyeong sighs again, “I’m sure they feel awful. They love you a lot, you know that right?”

Hyungu scoffs. Dongmyeong and Giwook exchange glances.

* * *

It was only a matter of time before Hyungu had to face the other two, and on the fourth day he walked into the apartment only to be ambushed by Yonghoon, sitting on their disgusting arm chair. The older had been given a key months prior, Harin having snuck around their landlord’s strict key-making policy to get it to happen, but he usually only came over when his boyfriend was going to be there. To walk into the apartment and seeing that Yonghoon had waited there, alone, with their shitty over-priced Wi-Fi, came as a shock.

“Hyungu,” Yonghoon’s voice is firm, beautiful, Hyungu had missed it, “Come sit down,”

Hyungu wants to be defiant, wants to continue ignoring the issue, but he’s missed him. He wants to have some aspect of his normalcy back. He’s not as heated as he was, but he’s still warm, and wanders to the couch, slowly and cautiously. Yonghoon’s eyes are on him, soft and loving, watching as he sits down. Hyungu knows they’re both tense.

“Are you still mad?” Yonghoon is careful.

“Yes,” Hyungu feels the curtness on his tongue, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Yonghoon sighs, shoulders sagging slightly, “Of course you’re allowed to be mad,”

“Then why ask?”

“I just want – need – you to know that we’re both really sorry. We should have thought things out more,”

“Harin is letting you apologize for him?”

“I thought it would be kinder on you if we did this separately,” Yonghoon deflates again, only to try to puff himself up once more, “I didn’t want you to feel like we were ganging up on you,”

“Like you did the other night?”

“Yeah,” Yonghoon licks his lips, a nervous tick, “Like we did the other night,”

“It hurt, you know,” and Yonghoon leans forward at that, “To be dragged out to a place you already don’t feel comfortable going to and then be abandoned,”

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Yonghoon nods, “I’m really sorry,”

“Why’d you do it?” Hyungu shrinks into himself, into the couch. Yonghoon hesitates, like he’s fighting the urge to rush over and comfort him.

“Heat of the moment,” he eventually shrugs, “We didn’t plan on leaving you,”

“But before that you guys weren’t even talking to me,”

“Hyungu,”

“I felt invisible. Like an afterthought,”

“I’m sorry,”

“And also,” the heat is starting to come up, starting to boil again, “You guys don’t get to decide what I do with my life. Or _who_ I do,” he sputters at the end, the words are foreign in his mouth.

“You’re right. We don’t,” Yonghoon hesitates again, “It’s just that— “

“It’s just that, what?”

Yonghoon’s eyes show genuine concern, “We were worried. Neither of us had ever seen you act like that. You’re usually not so… open with affection. Not like that,”

“So, you thought I was some sexless creature? He came over, I was alone, he was hot, and I made my choice. Is that so wrong?”

Yonghoon deflates again, head rolling backwards on his neck, “It’s not wrong. You’re absolutely free to make out with whomever, and we should have respected that,”

Hyungu leans forward at that, “Harin thinks so too?” and at Yonghoon’s hesitation rolls his eyes, “So, no, he doesn’t think that,”

“It’s not that. He just has… different thoughts on it than I do. He really is sorry though,”

“He’s only sorry because I’m mad at him,” Hyungu stands up, “I can’t keep talking about this,”

Yonghoon stands up quickly, defensively, “Forget about Harin then. Are you able to forgive me?”

Hyungu looks at him directly. Yonghoon’s eyes are pleading, upset. The older has never been good at hiding his feelings. Hyungu sighs, “I’ll think about it,”

“Okay,” Yonghoon licks his lips again, hands fiddling awkwardly, “Take the time you need,”

Hyungu walks away, leaving Yonghoon behind him. He’s opening the door to his windowless, dark room when Yonghoon calls out again, “Harin really was just concerned. He loves you a lot, you know? We both do,”

Hyungu looks back, “I’ll believe it when I see it,” and enters his room, enters the blackness, and closes the door. He doesn’t bother turning on the lights.

It hurts. It hurts so much to fight them. It hurts to not run into Yonghoon’s arms when he wants to so much. It hurts to know that they love him, but it’s not the type of love he wants from them, needs from the world. Hyungu sighs and lays on his bed, pulling out his phone.

He downloads every dating app that seems applicable to him. He needs to get over this, over them, for his on sanity, and the icons terrify him but it’s a better place to start then to not start at all.

* * *

It’s another day before he finally has to face Harin. Hyungu comes home, relieved that Yonghoon isn’t sitting on the couch, waiting for him to allow things to go back to normal. He is greeted, however, by Harin’s shoes laying haphazardly in the entry, bedroom door closed. He sneaks in, quietly, like a mouse, in order to not summon him. Hyungu wants to forgive Harin, he really does, but he also wants to punch him in the face. Wants to uppercut him so Harin understands what it’s like to be betrayed by someone you trust. Someone you love.

Of course, he still wants to kiss Harin. Shove his tongue into his mouth and have all of his attention be on him.

Hyungu’s pretty happy he knows how to restrain himself.

So, he tiptoes in. It feels wrong to creep through his own apartment like a shadow, an intruder, but he feels like an imposter right now anyways. He’s not forgiven Harin and Yonghoon, but his anger has subsided substantially. He’s no longer purely platonic with them either. No, fate decided to strike a blow to him that has caused him to fall irrevocably in love with them both. It’s not fair, but he supposes that destiny isn’t designed to play fair, especially not with the hearts of the innocents.

He almost makes it to his door when he spots them. He had come so far (metaphorically – the apartment really is little more than a hole in the wall) only to be stopped and sidetracked by something so trivial. Something so small that it fits snugly on what little kitchen counter space they actually have. It’s a move so like Harin, so predictable of him, that Hyungu is astonished he didn’t see it coming.

There, in a cheap plastic container, is a package of grocery store sugar cookies. A treat so beloved by his friend that Hyungu practically associates one with the other. And here they are just sitting out in the open, plastic already cracked, seal broken. There’s one already missing from the container; so tempting, tantalizingly sweet.

A peace offering, from the looks of it.

Hyungu peers over at Harin’s door. There’s light coming from inside, but the door is firmly shut. He looks over at the cookies, back at the door. He really shouldn’t, he knows that, but he misses his best friend and these treats are the closest alternative. He knows his back tooth will hurt from the sugar, but it’s something he feels like he needs to do. Carefully, stealthily, he opens up the lid. Using only the tips of his fingers, he pulls out one of the soft, chemically-created saccharine monstrosities. He puts it to his mouth, takes the tiniest of bites.

The door opens.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Never trust a Greek bearing gifts.

“Those are mine,”

Hyungu turns to look at Harin, standing in the doorway. This is the foregone conclusion. Harin knows every way to get Hyungu to break, every single possible scenario to ensnare him in a web. It’s not fair.

And, so, he swallows, “Can’t eat a cookie,” he looks Harin in the eyes, “Can’t kiss a cute boy at a bar. Looks like I’m not allowed to do anything,”

“Look,” Harin looks exasperated. His clothes are dishevelled, dark circles deep under his eyes, “I hate it when we fight. You’re a hundred percent allowed to make out and hook up with strangers. I wish you wouldn’t, but, you’re right, I have no say in it,”

“It’s my life,” Hyungu whispers.

Harin steps forward, “It is, of course it is,” His eyes dart around the room, before finally finding their way back to Hyungu. “You’re just my entire world, is all,”

“Shouldn’t Yonghoon be your entire world?”

“Both of you are my world,” Harin amends, a soft smile on his face, “Forgive me?”

“What were you even expecting to happen at the bar? You know me. You know I hate that kind of place,”

“I thought you would enjoy the music,” Harin shrugs, eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Maybe if you got drunk enough you would come dance with us, let loose,”

This is easier with Harin. Maybe, because they’ve been interwoven for so many years, forgiving him comes just as easily as loving him, “But you ignored me,”

“Definitely not the plan,” He steps forward, as if sensing that Hyungu is opening, just slightly, “We always want you with us, Hyungu,” They’re nearly toe to toe.

“Don’t say _always_ ,” Hyungu laughs, small and anxious. The word _always_ is too large, makes his stomach flip and gives his brain awful thoughts.

“We would never abandon you,”

“Then why ignore me?”

“Then why not interject?” a hand is on Hyungu’s shoulder now. Grip light but strong.

“You’re boyfriends, Harin. I shouldn’t be forcing myself into the middle,”

“You belong with us,” Harin is firm, but his eyebrows raise, startled, as if he’s revealed a secret. “I don’t know how else to put it, that’s just the first thing that popped into my head,” He’s flustered and talking over himself; Hyungu loves it when Harin becomes tongue tied.

Hyungu deflates, opens himself, “Is it that weird that I would make out with someone? Is it so weird to think someone would actually _want_ me?”

“It’s not…weird. Just unexpected for you to actually act on that,” Harin’s thumb is tracing light patterns on his shoulder; it sends an intense heat through Hyungu. “Anyone would be lucky to make out with you. I just didn’t like seeing it, that’s all,”

“Let me make my own mistakes, Harin,” But Hyungu is walking into him, head in his shoulder.

“So, you agree? You agree that it was going to be a mistake?” He laughs, arms coming around to encase him. Hyungu slaps his shoulder, “Ow, ow. Sorry, sorry. Forgive me?” And his nose is on the top of Hyungu’s head.

They don’t hug often, but the moment seems to call for it. Hyungu wants to be held, wants Harin to hold him. Their embraces, however, are not normally this soft, this tender. Not normally this drawn out. The thought alone makes Hyungu want to peel away and hide under his covers. The thought alone makes his craving grow.

So, he nods his forgiveness.

“And Yonghoon too?”

“Forgave him yesterday,” he mumbles into Harin’s shirt. They both laugh and, eventually, detangle themselves from one another.

Hyungu’s phone goes off. He looks down at it, peers at the small words on the notification bubble.

“So,” he licks his lips, he must have picked up the nervous habit from Yonghoon, he thinks, “It wouldn’t be weird if I dated someone, then?”

“No,” Harin sounds unusually small, “It wouldn’t be weird,”

It’s not what Hyungu wants to hear. He wants Harin to express undying devotion to him. Wants Harin to tell him how much he and Yonghoon adore him.

Wishful thinking will get him nowhere. Wishful thinking and ‘what-ifs’ will not satiate the hunger that has been gnawing inside of him for far too long.

He’s matched with someone named Keonhee, according to the congratulatory message from one of the dating apps.

* * *

Dongmyeong and Giwook are at his apartment for a change, hell bent on making Hyungu look perfect for his date. They don’t believe that he can do it himself, and he’s inclined to agree with them. So, he sits on his bed as Giwook carefully analyzes every shirt in his closet, holding them up to a pair of jeans that was deemed ‘sexy but modest’ for comparison. Dongmyeong has brought over enough makeup to make a teenaged girl swoon. Colour swatches of eyeshadow on Dongmyeong’s hands are brought up to his eye.

“Please,” Hyungu doesn’t want to sound exasperated, “I just want to look like myself,”

Dongmyeong seems to contemplate that for a moment, “You’ll look like yourself, just more... elevated,” A makeup sponge is brought to Hyungu’s cheek as Dongmyeong carefully applies foundation. “We’re just here to make sure that you look absolutely delectable,”

“It’s going to be a bit of a challenge,” Giwook hums, barely above a whisper, “There’s nothing with any pizazz in here,”

“I’m not really a ‘pizazz’ kind of guy,”

“Just choose something with a bright colour, Giwookie,” Dongmyeong opens up another palette of some kind, bronzer and highlight, Hyungu thinks. “He needs to look inviting, if nothing else,”

Hyungu scoffs at that, “Are you saying that I look mean, normally?”

“Not mean, just…” Dongmyeong shrugs his shoulders, pausing as he tries to find the correct word, “Unapproachable. Hollow out your cheeks for me,”

Hyungu does as he’s told, “And what if you put in all of this effort only for him to think I’m awful?”

“His loss,” Giwook tosses a shirt at him, purple, simple, “You’re fantastic and anyone should be able to see that,” He raises his voice, as if he was taking to the two men outside on the couch. Hyungu doesn’t understand why.

Slowly, surely, they get Hyungu prepared. Despite all the prodding Dongmyeong does with his makeup brush, he leaves the whole ordeal looking like himself. Leaving for the date, however, requires walking by Harin and Yonghoon in the living room, sitting on the shitty sofa. Hyungu walks out, presents himself. Yonghoon tells him he looks great, a soft smile. Harin nods, looks stern, gives a thumb up.

Somehow, Hyungu is unsurprised by their lack of enthusiasm for him. He’s actually excited for this, wants Keonhee to think he’s great and fantastic. Even if all that happens between them is that Hyungu gets over this hell of a craving he has for Harin and Yonghoon, then he’s fine with that. He wants to be free of this.

But, more than anything, he wants to be loved, cherished, adored. He wants to satiate his hunger for affection. Perhaps he can find that with Keonhee. Perhaps, if not Keonhee, the door will open for some other man to give him what he desires.

So, he waves goodbye, Dongmyeong blows him a kiss, and he goes to the café he’s promised to meet Keonhee at.

And Keonhee, as it turns out, is fantastic. Handsome, a good talker, seemingly unperturbed by Hyungu’s shyness. It feels easy with Keonhee, Hyungu finds. He can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, but he feels no need to check it. The conversation flows and flows and flows, until they both realized they’ve lost track of time, the barista at the counter glaring at them. Through huge grins they plan another date.

Keonhee walks away, Hyungu checks his phone.

**Harin**

_How’s it going?_

**Hyungu**

_He’s amazing_

* * *

“You would tell me if you fell in love with someone, right?” Harin asks as they move the table the table they had swiped from next to a dumpster into position, days after introducing Yonghoon to him.

“Yeah,” Hyungu releases a grunt as he sets his side down, “Yeah, of course I would,” He eyes Harin, confused, “Why?”

“Just making sure,” Harin is less tired than he is after hauling a table down fifteen city blocks, “Don’t want you keeping any secrets from me,”

Hyungu moves to go wash his hands; he’ll need a full shower after that experience, most likely, “Considering you could barely contain yourself when you met Yonghoon, it wouldn’t be fair of me to hold out on you,” Hyungu turns from the sink to see Harin standing in front of him, pinky outstretched, “What are we, five?”

“Just promise me,”

“Wash your hands, dude,” But Hyungu goes to interlock their pinkies anyways, laughing.

It was all so much simpler than.

Hyungu never thought he’d break that promise in such an awful, unforgivable way.

They barely have anything in their apartment, they’re too broke for possessions, but Harin has placed a plastic container of grocery store sugar cookies on the counter anyways.

* * *

His and Keonhee’s relationship lasts three months, which is three months longer than Hyungu thought he would ever have a boyfriend. And, if he’s being honestly with himself, the three months were fantastic. Sure, maybe he wasn’t as attracted to Keonhee as he should be, but the relationship kept his mind off of how stupidly perfect Harin and Yonghoon is. And Keonhee is wonderful. He’s kind and supportive and so much fun to be around.

He’s been nothing but considerate to Hyungu. Nothing but caring and patient and kind. He had understood his trepidations towards kissing (though they did, more time than Hyungu can count), and was affectionate in his own ways. Hyungu thinks that Keonhee deserved someone better than him. Deserved someone who can love him the way that he deserves to be loved.

Because Keonhee can give him that, but Hyungu can’t reciprocate. No matter how hard he tried.

They’re in the café they had their first date in, the lights warm and inviting. The coffee is decently priced, and the staff is welcoming, especially to two regulars like them. They wave to their usual barista, who knows their order without them saying a word. It’s the type of domesticity that Hyungu has always dreamed of; it feels natural to be here, in this moment, with Keonhee.

He likes Keonhee, he really, really does. It’s his own fault that he can’t like Keonhee in a dramatic, romantic way.

They small talk over their drinks, and Hyungu feels happy to be in Keonhee’s presence. He feels lighter, can feel the warmth from the other radiating into him. It’s a blissful existence. Hyungu wants to keep it. Hyungu wants it to be everything Keonhee deserves.

“I don’t think there’s a not blunt way to say this, but obviously this isn’t going to work out for us,”

Of course, Hyungu doesn’t get to have even this.

“What do you mean?” and Hyungu feels small. He feels really and truly miniscule. Keonhee towers over him on the best of days, but the differences have never felt greater than in that moment.

“I think we both know,” Keonhee stares at him over the rim of his mug, not unkindly, “You’re clearly not invested in us being boyfriends,”

“I like you,” and Hyungu panics, reaches for a hand that’s just a little too purposefully far away, “I like you a lot, Keonhee,”

Keonhee laughs, sounding wistful, “I know you like me, Hyungu. I like you too. But I think we both know that this isn’t an epic romance,”

“It’s not,” Hyungu deflates.

And then, suddenly, Keonhee snaps out of his mood. He smiles widely, grasps at Hyungu’s forearms, “That doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me, though!”

“What?”

Keonhee laughs, shakes his head to get some hair out of his face. His grin is ecstatic, friendly, caring. As if he hadn’t just broken up with Hyungu, “Well, _obviously_ we’re not gonna cut it as boyfriends. But _obviously_ we’re destined to be the best of friends,”

“I can get behind that,” and Hyungu smiles with Keonhee.

It’s the best-case scenario, Hyungu thinks as he walks home. He may be single yet again, may have just gone through the world’s strangest break up, but he has a new best friend. Keonhee was the greatest part of three months for him, and he’s thrilled that he’s not just losing that. He gets to keep it. He gets to _keep Keonhee._ The idea of it feels foreign to him, as if he’s never had the opportunity to keep anyone or anything in his life. He’s just so excited that he gets to go home after being broken up with by Keonhee, and still be able to text him when he climbs into bed.

It feels magical. It feels wondrous.

“How was the date?” Harin asks as he comes through the door. Yonghoon has shrunk down, chin resting on Harin’s shoulder as they sit on the ever-decomposing couch. Yonghoon is staring at Hyungu with the warmest, most doe-like expression, and it makes Hyungu want to melt into a puddle.

He smiles and shrugs, “We broke up,”

His best friend and his best friend’ boyfriend, the two people in the world that Hyungu loves most, stare at him in shock. They mutter out their apologies, ask what they can do, and Hyungu realizes that he can seize this moment. The euphoria of not losing Keonhee is overpowering, and he wants to ride that high for as long as he can.

So, he acts boldly, rashly, out of character.

He strides over to the other side of Yonghoon, sits down, and leans into the older’s warmth. He can feel muscles tense up beneath him, can hear Yonghoon’s breath stutter for the briefest of moments. And then an arm is around him and he is held. Hyungu can tell Harin isn’t breathing as his best friend turns into Yonghoon as well. Harin’s fingers deftly swipe through his hair, once, twice, calloused and warm.

“We’re still going to be friends,” he mumbles into Yonghoon’s shirt, “But let me mourn not having anyone to make out with anymore,” and he hears the others laugh softly. He inhales Yonghoon, memorizes the shape of the pads of Harin’s fingers. As much as he’s thrilled that he gets to keep Keonhee, he’s also disappointed that this moment won’t last forever.

They adore him. He knows this. But for as much affection they show, for as much honey and sugar laces their voices as they speak to him, it will never curb the craving that has latched itself deep in the pit of Hyungu’s stomach. He has to hold onto moments of weakness to feel even an ounce of what he wants.

They love him, but it will never be the same way that he loves them.

* * *

They find Hyungu’s nightstand underneath someone’s balcony while walking home drunk in the early hours of the morning. It’s clearly been thrown out from the higher ledge, and Harin and Hyungu barely have to look at each other in order to know that they are _absolutely_ and without any remorse pilfering it. For something that has fallen a fair distance, it’s still in decent shape, and Harin mutters under his breath that he can fix it. He can fix anything.

He’s managed to make Hyungu a better person, so he supposes, in an intoxicated, sleep deprived state, that it must be true.

It sits as the focal point in their living room for a few days as Harin tries to scrounge up all the materials he needs to actually make the thing a presentable piece of furniture. Hyungu watches, not even knowing he’s enraptured, as Harin mends the object piece by piece, nail by nail. The finished table is carried into his room, and Hyungu watches on.

“There,” Harin grins, “A place for you to put a lamp in here,”

“We’re gonna have to find one somewhere I don’t have the cash for that,”

Harin laughs, a deep, low chuckle that vibrates deep within Hyungu, “Am I gonna have to fix that for you too?”

“Yes,” Hyungu grins, “Yes, you will. Because you’re _incredible_ ,”

Harin looks down, scratches at his neck, “Aw geez, don’t go falling in love with me now,”

Neither of them realizes that Hyungu already has. He’s lost before he’s even realized there was never a chance to win.

* * *

He’s back at Dongmyeong and Giwook’s, a normal day. Dongmyeong has coaxed him into putting on a facemask, has coaxed Hyungu into letting himself be pampered. The younger slathers the mask onto him with a fancy silicone applicator; the strokes are even, almost comforting in their monotony. Giwook sits and paints his own nails, a different colour for each finger, carefully applies base coat and top coat.

“You know, Hyungu,” Dongmyeong sounds like he has a soft smile. Hyungu’s eyes are closed otherwise he would check to see if a grin was plastered on his friend’s face. “You should allow yourself to be loved,”

“When haven’t I allowed that?” Hyungu tries not to move his mouth too much, tries not to ruin Dongmyeong’s meticulous work, “When haven’t I let people love you,”

He feels Dongmyeong’s head shake, even though he can’t see it, “But you never allow them to love you fully. You have so many walls built up for no reason,” He pauses as Hyungu sighs, “We all just want you to be happy,”

“I am happy,”

“No, you’re not,” Giwook speaks up, “You’re wistful, more than usual. And you’re yearning,”

“We all have our different moods,”

“It’s not a question of different moods – okay we need to keep this on for fifteen minutes try not to move your face – it’s a question of you deserving something and not allowing yourself to have it,” Dongmyeong gets up to wash the excess mask off of the brush. Hyungu can hear Giwook’s measured breathing as he continues to paint his nails. He tries to breathe in time with his younger friend. Dongmyeong comes back, sits next to Hyungu on the couch. Hyungu’s fingers curl in and out of themselves until Dongmyeong grabs his hands in his.

It hits Hyungu that these are his _friends_. These are people who love him without any judgement. These are people who want nothing but the world for him. These are people he can trust with his heart. Dongmyeong’s thumbs move mindlessly against his skin, trying to relax him, trying to get him to understand.

So, for the second time, he takes a risk.

“What do you do,” and he can hear Giwook hold his breath, Dongmyeong’s thumbs stop moving, “When you’re in love and they’ll never love you back,”

“Have you asked them? If they’re in love too?” Giwook’s voice is small and tender.

“No,” Hyungu’s voice breaks.

“You can’t cry Hyungu, you’ll ruin the mask,” Dongmyeong’s grip grows ever tighter, “If they have any sense at all they’ll love you fully and completely,” Dongmyeong lets go of his hand, moves to position himself so his head is in Hyungu’s lap. Hyungu goes to stroke his hair, but his eyes are still closed and he hits the younger’s forehead instead.

“They’re not in love with me,” His breath is shaking, “They’re in love with someone else,”

Giwook’s body shifts, if the noise from his hoodie is an indication, the cap is placed back on the bottle of nail polish, “Who are you talking about, Hyungu?”

Hyungu shakes his head, slightly as to not ruin the mask, “I don’t want to say,”

“It’s a dumb question anyways,” Dongmyeong snorts, not unkindly, “You know who, Giwookie,”

And Hyungu pauses, and contemplates if his love is plain for the world to see, except to the two who deserve to know more than anyone else.

* * *

“So,” Keonhee smiles at him over his coffee, “Who is it?”

They’re in the café, again. Hyungu briefly wonders if the baristas who know their orders from just a glance know that they’re no longer a couple; did they ever guess that they were ever a couple in the first place? His hands grip his own mug, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

Keonhee scoffs, a little too loudly, looks around sheepishly to see if there’s anyone he has to apologize to, “You know exactly who I’m talking about,” He leans forward a little more, “The person you’re in love with,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Yes, you do,” And Keonhee’s smile is still infectious, even after everything, “The entire time we were dating you were yearning for someone and it certainly wasn’t me,”

Hyungu sighs, knows that there’s no use fighting Keonhee on this, “You really want to know?”

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Keonhee stands up a little straighter, showing that he’s ready to listen.

“Harin,” And there it is. The first time he’s ever allowed himself to say it aloud. He meets Keonhee’s eyes, and his friend’s gaze is sad and serious.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Keonhee smiles softly at him, “Your best friend and roommate. Of course it turned out this way. I’m sorry, Hyungu,”

“Don’t apologize yet; it gets worse,” Hyungu’s grip on his mug grows even tighter, “It’s also Yonghoon,”

Keonhee leans back in his chair, mouth slowly falling agape. There’s a few moments of silence, where they only look at each other. Keonhee’s eyes study him, trying to find the lie in the statement. “Both of them?” His friend sounds breathless, and Hyungu nods, look down into the abyss that is his coffee. “Your best friend and his boyfriend, my God,”

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly, “I’m kind of fucked,”

“Yeah,” Keonhee is quick to agree, “You kinda are,” He rearranges himself, sits up straight again. “So, you only dated me to get over them?”

“Uhm,” Hyungu doesn’t want to answer this particular question.

“Damn, no wonder you were distracted the entire time,” And Keonhee is smiling again, laughing, “How the hell am I supposed to compete with two beautiful men? One of them, maybe I stood a chance against, but not both,”

Hyungu laughs too, “You were a wonderful boyfriend, Keonhee. You put up a good fight,”

“Are you ever going to tell them?”

“Of course not,” Hyungu stares at his companion incredulously, “Why the hell would you think that’s a good idea?”

“Listen, Hyungu, you’ve told me some of the stuff they’ve said to you and you’ve always brushed it off as them just being caring friends. But, I’m wondering, maybe they aren’t strictly monogamous? Have you ever asked them that?”

“It’s never come up in casual conversation, no,”

“Maybe they’re into that. Maybe they’re into you. You’ll never know until you ask,”

“That’s never going to happen,” But Hyungu is already in his head, replaying every interaction he’s ever had with the pair. Repeating conversations, trying to read between the lines.

They’ve told him that they love him, that he belongs with them. That he’s Harin’s world. They’ve always included him, always engulfed him in affection. But, that’s always been platonic, hasn’t it? There’s no chance that it could be romantic, could it? They aren’t yearning and craving like he is, are they?

They can’t be.

* * *

Harin, from the very first moment he had met him, had found a way to get past Hyungu’s walls without ever breaking them. Hyungu had built doors instead of allowing Harin to take a wrecking ball to him. He wonders now if he should have just allowed Harin to destroy him from the start. Maybe it would all be easier, then.

He comes home one day, weeks after having coffee with Keonhee, to see Harin and Yonghoon sitting on the couch. They look solemn, Harin’s arm around Yonghoon, and their eyes light up, only slightly, when they see him walk in. They motion for him to sit in the battered arm chair, and he complies. The mood feels tense, and they seem nervous sitting across from him.

Hyungu swallows air, closing his throat around nothing.

“Hyungu,” Yonghoon is the one who speaks first, voice soft and hesitant, “We want you to let us finish before you say anything,” Hyungu stares at him, slowly nods, and Harin’s arm tightens around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“This is going to sound weird,” Harin’s eyes move around the room, “but you know I’ve said that we always want you with us, right? You remember that, right?” And Hyungu remembers; it’s been flying around in his brain ever since he heard the words. And so, he nods. And he holds his breath.

“He means it,” Yonghoon’s voice is soft, “We mean it. We always want you with us. Always. Do you understand what I mean by this?” And Hyungu shakes his head, because he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t dare try to understand.

Harin bites at his upper lip, a nervous habit, and he looks at Hyungu, “I’ve known since high school. Since the moment I met you, I’ve known,”

“Known what?” Hyungu is breathless.

“That I’m in love with you,”

And the dam breaks. The wall is broken. Hyungu feels the foundation of his world crumble apart.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you,” They make eye contact. Hyungu looks at him for any sign of a joke, any sign of a lie. He finds none. He can’t believe he finds none.

“I know this is a shock,” Yonghoon breaks the silence, “But it’s true. I’ve known for as long as Harin has been together,”

“But...” Hyungu swallows nothing, “But why?”

“We want you with us always. And that includes me. I fell in love with you too,” Yonghoon admits, “It would have been hard not to,”

“Both of you…?” Hyungu can feel his lungs collapsing, “Both of you…? Are in love…? With me…?”

Harin fidgets where he’s sitting; he looks like he’s torn between staying in spot and going to Hyungu. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re both in love with you,”

Hyungu should have allowed Harin to destroy him from the start. Should have allowed him to break down every wall, bridge every gap, shouldn’t have kept him away until a door could be created. If he had let Harin destroy him, they wouldn’t be here, together, in this moment. Hyungu wouldn’t have to deal with the overwhelming feeling that he’s experiencing.

This is all he wanted. All he ever wanted. And yet he finds that it’s too overpowering. The craving can be satisfied, maybe, but he’ll be overflowing. He finds that their love is like needing a small snack but being offered a twelve-course meal. It’s crushing, all powerful.

He can’t take it.

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” Yonghoon puts up his hand to show that he means no harm, an act of surrender, “You don’t have to accept our feelings. You don’t have to do anything,” The tension builds further, and Hyungu is afraid he may snap with it. “We just thought, after everything that’s happened the last few months, that you deserved an explanation,”

“It hurt to see you with someone else, but I couldn’t just hate Keonhee,” Harin can’t look him in the eye, “Even if it wasn’t true love or whatever, he did make you happy. But, like with the guy at the club, I’ve just always felt that you were mine. Yeah, that was wrong, and I had no right, but I couldn’t just let someone take what was mine,” He’s rambling, trying to formulate a coherent thought.

“I can’t listen to this,” Hyungu gets out of the chair, almost sprints back to the door to put his shoes on, “I need air. I need time,”

Yonghoon stands up, finally removing himself from Harin’s embrace, “Of course. Of course, you can do that. We’ve dropped the biggest bomb on you. You can take all the time you need,”

But Hyungu is already out the door. He’s in fresh air but he can’t catch his breath. This was everything he had ever wanted. Everything he still wants.

And it would be so easy to just run back inside and throw himself into their arms. Let them hold him like they want, like how he wants, and let them kiss the oxygen out of him. He doesn’t have to ask for it, he doesn’t have to do anything. He can just exist and they’ll envelop him in love and affection and adoration.

Just like he’s always wanted.

Just like he’s dreamed of.

But the craving has become too large, too omnipresent. It cannot be satiated so simply, and he finds that it drives him into a panic. His mind races, as he races down the street, with all the ways that this could go wrong. Someone’s parents could disapprove. Their friends could disapprove. Someone amongst the three of them could fall out of love and then Hyungu could find himself without a friend and without a lover.

They could wake up one day and find that they preferred it all when there was two, not three. And Hyungu could have given them everything, his love, his emotions, only to be pushed to the side. The losses were too big to take the risk. Too overpowering to even consider it at all.

And yet.

* * *

They meet in high school.

Harin was the new kid in the class, tall and charming, though still a gangly teenager. He has pimples on chin, above his left eyebrow, yet the appearance of a beautiful man is laying underneath the baby fat in his cheeks. He’s popular immediately; being new brings enough curiosity, but being friendly and genuinely nice makes people want to stay. It doesn’t take long for a group of students to surround Harin every morning. He’s warm, inviting.

Hyungu is none of those things.

He’s been with his classmates for years, had grown up with them through elementary and junior high. Somehow, the attachment isn’t there. He’s small, anxiety has caused him to shrink into himself. The nervous energy radiates off of him, leg shaking, fingers tapping. Over the years many of his classmates had tried to befriend him, tried to grow close, but none of them had stayed. He had wanted them to stay, wanted to be their friend, but never knew how to hold onto them. No one hated him, he wasn’t the target for harassment, but he merely existed.

Until.

Harin must have seen him as some sort of challenge, must have seen something in him that was intriguing. He put in the effort to include Hyungu, to talk to him. And slowly, so slowly, Hyungu’s eyes lit up when the taller boy would come around, he would open up with small smiles. He gave small victories, and Harin responded in kind. In time, the crowds would disperse from around Harin, and he stayed with Hyungu. Their friendship grew by the month, the week, the day, the hour, the minute, the second.

The inevitability of it all hits Hyungu like a train.

The glances, the friendship, the hugs, the kiss. How they were drawn to each other like magnets, as if they were always going to find each other one day. Two seemingly parallel lines, destined to become perpendicular as the countdown to their meeting ticked down. He had never had to try with Harin; it was as natural as every breath he took.

Falling in love with Harin was as easy as inhaling and exhaling.

Loving Yonghoon was no harder. He fit with them, with Harin, with Hyungu, like a missing puzzle piece that Hyungu didn’t know he was missing until he found it. He came bearing affection that was loud in the announcement, quiet in the execution. As simple as breathing, as simple as opening his eyes.

Perhaps this is why.

Perhaps fate was never mocking him.

Perhaps the craving was only a step away from being sated.

His feet take him to the grocery store, and perhaps this too is just an inevitability.

* * *

He’s in the bakery section, eyes wide, looking for a sign. He knows he must look close to crazy, gaze darting around the different baked goods as if in a trance. He’s looking for something in particular, something to tell him what direction he should take. He’s looking for bright and colourful icing, artificial sugar, star shaped sprinkles. He’s looking for the familiarity that has followed him for years.

The baking is so overwhelmingly monotone, various shades of browns and beiges. The answer he’s looking for should be easy to find. And if he doesn’t find it? Then he’ll go home and reject the two men he loves the most. He’s left his heart in the hands of fate for too long to take back control now.

And then he sees it.

It’s sitting on a wire rack used for excess product. It’s the final container in the store it seems. The plastic gleams under the halogen lights several feet up, and the icing is a bright green. There are little white sprinkles scattered across each cookie, twelve in total. They could each have four cookies, if everything goes well. He grabs the package like a lifeline, and heads towards the self-checkout to pay.

And he goes home.

As he walks home, calmer than he’s felt for the past hour, since he came to his life-changing revelation, he imagines. He knows where exactly his nose sits on both Yonghoon and Harin, right at the junction where the neck meets the shoulder. He knows Yonghoon will hold him softly, like he’s precious, something that can easily be broken or taken. Knows Yonghoon would yelp if Hyungu’s nose is too cold on his skin. He can imagine him offering Hyungu bites in between his own.

Harin will be warm, will hold him so tightly that he will feel like crumbling apart in his arms. It’s a hug that can cure his anxiety, he’s had years of testing to know this. Harin has always been such a grounding presence to him, and that shows in hugs, in his affection. He’ll tease Hyungu with bites, before slowly, surely, giving him everything. All of him.

And he walks into the living room, plastic shopping bag in his hand. They look up at him, and Hyungu can see the red in Yonghoon’s eyes; he must have been crying after he left. Hyungu feels momentarily guilty, but he smiles at them. Soft, loving, determined.

“What did you buy?” Harin asks from the couch, cautiously, trying not to scare Hyungu off. He steps forward, slowly unwrapping the cookies from the bag. He watches Harin’s eyes grow wide at the treat. He can see Yonghoon’s become glassy.

“I thought we needed to celebrate,” Hyungu leaves the package on the chair, remains standing. Faces them, opens himself to them. “This feels like an important occasion,”

His friends, near-lovers, untangle themselves from each other. Harin scrambles to his feet, Yonghoon looks like he’s going to begin sobbing any moment. “So, you…?” Harin stumbles over his words, inches from Hyungu. The string of tension that still remains is so close to snapping, Hyungu need only say the word.

“I’ve been struggling with it for months, how much I loved the both of you,” His voice is close to breaking, “It felt like I was carrying a burden. I felt so guilty, for wanting you. Both of you,”

But that’s all it takes for Harin to surge forward.

Hyungu’s head is tilted upwards, Harin’s fingers on his cheek, thumb on his chin. Their lips meet and meet and meet. Harin coaxes him open slowly and carefully, like he always has. Hyungu allows his eyes to close, hands going up to Harin’s shoulders. And he grasps like he’s struggled to survive up to this point and Harin has brought him to safety. Harin’s free hand pushes at the small of his back until they’re chest to chest, pressed so closely together. Harin kisses him, deep and desperate, like he wants to steal the air he’s breathing.

And he is.

Time stops for them. The inevitability of their actions is punctuated by gasps for air, but Hyungu needs Harin like he needs oxygen. They kiss and kiss and kiss. Hyungu might dwell on the fact that the kiss is too passionate for their second kiss, but his mind is too full of love, of wanting, of Harin to think about something so trivial. When they finally, truly part, they’re both left panting. Harin drops his head to Hyungu’s shoulder, nuzzles at the skin there. Hyungu’s eyes feel wet, and he finds that he doesn’t care. And he holds him, a man that he loves.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Harin whispers into his neck, pressing his lips against the soft expanse, “You’re staying here, with me. With us,”

And then Hyungu remembers Yonghoon, sitting and watching and waiting during the eternity that they’ve kissed. He untangles himself from Harin, and stands to face Yonghoon. He’s still on the couch, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looks beautiful like this, eyes blown with desire.

“Come here,” the older whispers, and Hyungu obeys, easily, pliantly. He descends into outstretched arms, sits on his lap. Yonghoon encircles around him, fingers brushing at his hair, his face, his arms, as if memorizing him lest he runs. Hyungu grips lightly at the collar of his shirt, enraptured by tear soaked cheeks, glassy eyes full of adoration. And then he leans himself, wanting and yearning. Yonghoon gladly meets him when he arrives.

And the craving is satisfied. The hole that has existed in the pit of his stomach for so long is filled. Hyungu feels lighter, sated. It feels like he has eaten until he’s overflowing with love. And he lets it spill out.

Yonghoon kisses with as much affection as he has ever showed Hyungu. He’s tender and meticulous, kisses cautiously as if he’s scared to break Hyungu. There’s gentle ministrations all over his body, and it’s eventually Hyungu that has to rush forward to gain traction. Yonghoon is salty from the tears that are still flowing, and then Hyungu starts crying too, and they have to stop lest they drown.

So, they part, pads of thumbs wiping away tears, noses brushing. Hyungu’s lips feel numb, tingle from unprecedented use. Yonghoon chuckles softly, and Hyungu buries himself into him. Large hands rub at his back, and Yonghoon is saying how much he loves Hyungu, over and over again. Hyungu repeats it back, like a mantra, making up for all the times he wanted to say it and didn’t. Lips brush at his hair, and Hyungu focuses in on the older’s heartbeat, he lets it ground him into his new reality.

He hears the distinct sound of plastic packaging opening, and the gentle scent of artificial sugar hits his nose. The couch dips, and Harin is suddenly next to them, chest to Hyungu’s back, his lips joining Yonghoon’s in his hair. There is a moment where they leave him and their chins brush the top of his head, and Hyungu knows that they’re kissing above him. The idea is tantalizing, addictive. The moment is short, however, and then they’re back to showering him with love. Like they’ve wanted to for so long. Like he’s always wanted, always dreamed of.

He lifts his head, turns to look at Harin, and he’s greeted by a cookie pressed against his lips. Harin’s already taken a bite, a third already gone, and Hyungu’s eyes flit briefly to Harin’s. They’re blown out, loving, adoring; the entire affair has affected him in so many ways. Hyungu understands with every fibre of his being. He takes a bite, his lips softly take where Harin has already bitten, and takes a third for himself. He chews gently, Harin watching every slow movement of his lips, Yonghoon nosing at his hair. When he swallows, Harin passes the last third to Yonghoon, feeds him gently. Harin presses into Hyungu, who turns his head to watch as Yonghoon chews and swallows too.

His eyes flit between his two friends, two new lovers, and they watch him, enraptured. They both tightly enclose him, and he gives them his space, his air. He gives it to them willingly, full of want and love. They take turns, kiss every bit of skin they can reach. His nose, his ears, his neck, his fingers. Should skin brush his own mouth, Hyungu presses forward in return. The smell of sugar is strong; Hyungu finds that it suits the three of them.

Harin presses a little closer, nips at his lips with full intention, and Hyungu finds that his foundation is crumbling. It’s so fast, but the will to resist has never been there, not really. Hands find the skin under his shirt, brush at his stomach and over his navel. Yonghoon seems to have picked up on Harin’s mood, Hyungu’s willingness, and his own fingers wrap tighter around him.

When he can finally move his mouth to speak, he’s breathless, gasping for air, “You’re not even going to wine and dine me first?”

They both have the good sense to stop and chuckle at that, hands never leaving his skin. “Well,” Harin leans back and the sheer desire radiating off of him is overwhelming, “We have these cookies, and I think there’s still a can or two of beer in the fridge,” And Hyungu laughs, out of love and wanting and yearning, pulling Harin back forward to kiss him.

And then they’re untangling, and Harin has thrown him over his shoulder. Hyungu reaches out for Yonghoon, and the older follows enthusiastically, a smile pasted warmly on his face. Harin carries him the short distance to his bedroom. Hyungu is placed gently on the bed, and Yonghoon closes the door.

* * *

And nothing changes.

Hyungu still leaves to work and go to school. Harin still cooks dinner for three in their miniscule kitchen. Yonghoon shows up and leaves only when necessary. Hyungu wakes up and gets to see his best friend and his boyfriend every day. Harin asks how spicy he wants his chicken as Hyungu sits at the second-hand table.

But now his days are filled with cuddles and kisses. He wakes up every day pressed into Harin’s side, though mostly he’s sandwiched between him and Yonghoon. He peppers kisses onto their faces, wrinkles his nose up at their morning breath. He’ll try to get up and be pulled back down by one or both of them. They hold him tightly to make up for all the days they weren’t in each other’s arms.

Life is good.

There are moments he gets that he’s just alone with Harin. He’ll come home stressed and Harin will stroke his hair and make him his favourite meal. Allows Hyungu to just come to him when he’s ready, holds him like he’s loved Hyungu for as long as he breathed. Hyungu gets to revel in the safety that Harin brings, the security and the foundation.

And he’s there for Harin in return. Kisses behind his ear while he’s studying, makes him a cup of tea when Harin’s brow is especially furrowed. Their domesticity is borrowed from the time when they tried to pretend that there was only friendship between them, and it provides the groundwork for their relationship. It’s easy to fall into routine with Harin, to fall into the normalcy of shoulder kisses and too-tight hugs.

Out of the three of them, Harin holds the most passion and desire. On a Friday night, Hyungu can find himself being coerced into his lap, hands trailing under his shirt. Had he try to imagine this scenario, he would have woken up overheated and embarrassed, face red from shame. In reality, he finds, that it’s as natural as any other aspect of loving Harin. He allows himself to be pulled into Harin’s orbit, willingly and enthusiastically.

There are moments he gets that he’s just alone with Yonghoon. Those instances, few and far between before the love between them fully blossomed, become increasingly more common. Hyungu will come home to find Yonghoon wrapped in the blankets on their bed, exhausted from a long day. He’ll lightly kiss his brow, his nose, settles in next to the older. And Yonghoon will cling to him as if he’s an overgrown teddy bear. He buries his face into Yonghoon’s warmth, and stays.

Yonghoon holds him as often as he can, as easily as he breathes. Strokes Hyungu’s hair, his head on Yonghoon’s lap, as they watch a movie, lulls him to sleep. Kisses each of his fingers in turn, for no reason other than pure joy. Wraps his body over him, as if sheltering him from a storm that Hyungu has yet to see. He had been one to shy from affection, once upon a time, but Yonghoon builds him up; reinforces the walls from inside.

He’s needy, but not as overt as Harin. Presses kisses to Hyungu’s neck, runs his hands up and down Hyungu’s arms. He shows intent without saying a word. Hyungu has learned how to read between the lines, has learned how to translate each touch and change in breathing. Gets pulled into the high tide of Yonghoon’s love.

Yonghoon and Harin still make time for each other. Hyungu will walk in on them cuddling, them sleeping next to each other, barely dressed and sweaty. Their relationship is older than the one they have with Hyungu, and he respects that, understands that that love needs to be nurtured. They never forget him, after all, and he never forgets them in return.

Most of the time it’s the three of them together, as fate had always intended. Their love is seemingly written in the stars, like Hyungu had always dreamed. He has butterflies and magic surrounding him every moment of every day. His idealisms about love had been misguided and immature, yet love is every bit as grand as he had always hoped. His heart is protected from all sides, and kisses and adoration are plentiful. It no longer feels like destiny is mocking him; rather, he berates himself for not walking in the right direction from the beginning.

And, yet, that wouldn’t have been the journey.

He hasn’t felt hungry since the day his lips and heart had been claimed. Whatever void used to exist inside of him has vanished, and he fills full and satisfied. All his cravings are met immediately, without hesitation, with pure and unadulterated love. There is no one in the world luckier than him.

* * *

He’s back at Dongmyeong and Giwook’s. The youngest has coaxed him into letting him paint his nail. They had argued back and forth on the colour, before settling on a light purple, a pastel lavender. Dongmyeong has brewed him a cup of coffee that’s too bitter, but he loves it nonetheless. His friends smile at him with so much love, filling his heart.

“Hey, Hyungu?” Dongmyeong plops down next to him, rests his head on his shoulder, “Are you happy?”

Giwook smiles up at him, pauses his handiwork. And Hyungu thinks to the promise of fried chicken Harin had made. The grin on Yonghoon’s face as he jotted what he might want to eat on a piece of scrap paper. They had sold the extra bed in what used to be Hyungu’s room; he hasn’t used it in months. The extra cash wasn’t going to last long at this rate, but the three of them couldn’t care less about that.

There’s a container of sugar cookies on the counter, pink frosting with red sprinkles in the shape of hearts.

“Yeah, I am,” and if he’s wistful while he says it no one utters a word, “I’m happier than you could ever imagine,”

And it’s the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I accept any and all forms of praise and constructive criticism! 
> 
> The first scene I thought of was Hyungu coming back with the sugar cookies and I built this monstrosity around that. Also I think drunken make outs and fights are my new thing. 
> 
> Anyways give Hyungu all the kisses 2K21


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